


The Skinhead

by ladyinpink602 (leodis57)



Category: Tennis RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-24
Updated: 2014-01-24
Packaged: 2018-01-09 21:48:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1151173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leodis57/pseuds/ladyinpink602
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Feliciano's friends react to his new 'skinhead' haircut.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Skinhead

**Author's Note:**

> This is a work of fiction and I don't know any of the people depicted in this story. No disrespect intended.

 

It had been one of those spur of the moment decisions. Cut it all off he had told the hairdresser in Brisbane. Staring at his shaven head in the mirror afterwards he quickly quashed any regrets. It was only hair when all was said and done, wasn’t it and hair would grow again; anyway who could blame him for wanting a cool head in the blazing heat of the Australian summer?

What he hoped for – no, expected – was to have the support of his friends and colleagues. After all his girlfriend had been OK with it as had his family, and how many times had he uttered encouraging words when a friend had undergone a hair disaster the likes of which had to be seen to be believed?   He prided himself on his diplomacy when faced with Rafa’s pathetic attempts to cover his bald spot, or Fer’s ridiculous ponytail that made him look like a Mexican bandit.  The last time David had a haircut, he had kindly refrained from asking him what sort instrument he had used to hack at his locks.

He had decided to break the news gently. Allow his friends to get used to the idea before they all met up at Melbourne.  He had sent jokey texts hinting at a new Feliciano, making sure the attached pics showed him at a suitable distance.  The responses he had received were fairly non-committal; Fer had replied with several question marks and some sarcastic comment about needing to borrow his father’s glasses to see the spot in the distance, and could he send a closer one please.

There had been comments on Twitter, yes, including Judy Murray’s disappointment at the shedding of his curls.  Well, he could live with that.  At Brisbane there had been a few shocked faces when he had appeared on court for the first time after the cut; even Roger Federer had stopped in his tracks, staring at him for several seconds as if he couldn’t quite believe his eyes.  He had to admit it was always an honour to have Roger’s attention, even if it was focused on his shaven head.

Melbourne though, that was when he got more feedback than he wanted.

                                                                      *

He was just minding his own business, making his way to the practice courts, when he was spotted by David and Marc.

“Hi Feli! Are we going to get a look?” said David pointing to the cap which was firmly fixed on his head.

“A look at what David?” he replied,  studying his racket and pretending not to know what his friend was talking about.

“C’mon, you know, taking the cap off and let us see the damage” David said, with a smirk on his face.

“You know what curiosity does, don’t you?”  he answered, fixing his friends with as stern a glare as he could manage.

“There’s one way to sought this” said Marc, reaching up and snatching the cap from his head.

“Marc!!” he shouted as he made an unsuccessful attempt to grab his cap back.

Marc was now doubled up laughing; David was a little bit more dignified and confined his reaction to a rather girlish giggling fit.

“Well thank you so much! It’s nice to be the object of fun for your so-called friends.”  He folded his arms and his lips formed into a pout.

“It’s not, it’s not ….. the hair - or lack of it - it’s you, trying to hide it!” cried Marc.

“I wasn’t trying to hide it, I just chose to wear a cap, OK?”

As the laughter continued he decided he’d had enough.  “So, _friends_ , you don’t like it then?”

David looked at him quizzically.  “No, it’s just that you look …. different  - how shall I put it - less _Feli._ ”

“Less _Feli?_ ” he frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well, the Feli we know has curls - lots of them.”

“When he puts the straighteners down, that is” added Marc who was rocking on his heels, clearly finding the whole thing hilarious.

He gave Marc a push.  “I just love being a figure of fun for my friends!”

“We’re not laughing at you, it’s just that it takes some getting used to, yeah? I’m sure it will grow on us.” David said patting his arm.

He said this with a straight face which sent Marc into another fit of hysterics.

*

This was really too much.  He made another grab for the cap and was about to put it on his head when he spotted Rafa making his way towards them.  Perhaps Rafa would be more supportive, he was usually eager to please.

Rafa stopped dead in his tracks and his mouth fell open.  He then slowly circled round him, looking at him from every angle and pausing, it seemed, to scrutinise his right ear.  He folded his arms, sighed and waited for judgment to be passed.

“So?” he said holding Rafa’s gaze. “What’s the verdict?”

Rafa touched his head and felt the bristles.  “Unbelievable” he muttered. “Unbelievable.” He frowned and shook his head.  “I can’t believe you are Feli.”

“So you keep saying, Rafa.”  He was on the verge of losing his temper.  “Look, it is me OK? It’s only my hair that’s different!” 

“But Feli, it’s just so unlike you” replied Rafa.  Marc and David nodded in agreement.

“Well it’s done.  Alba’s happy with it and I’m happy with it, so there.”

“It makes you look like Andre Agassi!” said Rafa, grinning from ear to ear.

“What? I am NOT bald.”

“Well you are almost, Feli, come on” replied David.  “Anyway, if you’re happy with it why are you bothered by what we say?”

“Because you’re all making such a big thing of it.”

“Aww Feli” said Rafa wrapping an arm around his shoulder. “I think it’s great, I really do.”

“Really?” he felt somewhat mollified.

“Sure” Rafa nodded vigorously and as convincingly as possible.

“What does Fer think of it?” asked Marc still highly amused.

He shrugged in a non-committal way and muttered something about having sent him a picture.

“So, he hasn’t seen you in person since you had it cut?”

“Well no but he’ll be cool with it.  I mean he’s had his own hair shaved off in the past.”

“Yeah, but that won’t count for anything where Fer’s concerned.  The guy’s so unpredictable.” replied David.

“David’s right, but hey don’t worry” said Rafa with a cheerfulness that wasn’t matched by his expression.

“I’m not,” he answered with bravado and then turned aside as his phone vibrated.   “That’s him now, he’s going to join us.”

                                                          *

As Fer approached he could feel his confidence in a good reception rapidly diminishing.  The cap remained firmly on his head as he exchanged greetings with his long-term friend.

“”Haven’t you got something to show me, Feli?” asked Fer, pointing to the cap.  He turned to the others and asked.  “Is it that bad?”

“No it’s not! Have a look why don’t you?”  He removed the cap and held it in front of him, a ‘don’t you dare criticise’ expression on his face.

“Well?”

Fer’s eyes darkened as he stared at him, and he could tell from past experience that a storm was brewing. He braced himself for a torrent of words but Fer said nothing.  There was just silence.

Shouting he could deal with, but this deathly quiet was unnerving.

“Are you going to saying something then?” he asked, placing his hands on his hips.

Fer slowly shook his head, turned and started to walk off towards the locker room.

“Guys, that is so weird.”  Marc looked mystified.

“You should go after him, Feli” said Rafa thoughtfully.   “He’s not very happy – did you promise never to have a skinhead cut or something?”

“Of course not!” he replied “I wouldn’t make promises like that”.  He was beginning to wonder though - had he made some sort of promise to Fer and forgotten all about it?

“Nothing would surprise me where you two are concerned” said David giving him a push.  “Go sort it out, Feli.”

*

He approached the locker room with apprehension. Fer was in such a strange mood be didn’t know what to expect.   When he entered, the room appeared to be empty.  Puzzled, he looked in the showers, but there was nobody there either.

As he turned to walk out, he felt someone grab him from behind and pull him into a recess next to the showers.  As he struggled to free himself he recognised those powerful tanned arms.

“Fer, for fuck’s sake!” he cried. “What are you doing?”  He wriggled round so that he was facing his friend, Fer maintaining a strong grip on his waist.

“Do you remember when I shaved my head a few years ago?” asked Fernando.

“Yeah, of course I do!”

“Do you remember what you said to me?”

“Er well, sort of.”

“You said next time I got the urge to shave off my hair to discuss it with you first.”

“Oh, right.”  Trust Fer to remember something that he had managed to forget. 

“And I said, I will as long as you make the same promise.” Fernando tightened his grip. “Which you did.”

This was tricky and the best way to deal with it was by bluster. “Yeah, when I said that I never intended to shave off my hair.”

Fernando raised his eyebrows.

“But this is different because I never _intended_ to have my hair cut like this, it was a spur of the moment decision.  If I’d planned it beforehand I would have talked about it with you.” Pleased with this, he gave Fernando a bright smile.

“Feliciano, you are hopeless liar” said Fernando, shaking his head in disbelief.

He moved closer to Fer so that their lips were almost touching and he could feel his warm breath on his face. “So, are you really angry with me?” he asked in his most wheedling voice.

“Yeah, I really am” replied Fernando although he didn’t sound it, in fact he sounded as though his defences were definitely coming down.

He wrapped his arms around Fernando’s neck and greedily pressed their lips together.

“Am I forgiven?” he asked when he had broken free of their embrace.

Fernando aimed a swipe at him but then touched the top of his head where the curls had been.  “Yeah, but only on one condition.”

“What’s that?”

“That your hair grows again pretty damn quickly.  I like to feel it between my fingers when we’re kissing.”

A broad smile crossed his face.  “Your wish is my command” he answered and breathed an inward sigh of relief; the hair crisis had been averted and all was well again.

 

**The End**

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
